


Space, She Calls Us

by Enk



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Military Ranks, Roof Sex, Sleepiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-12
Updated: 2011-11-12
Packaged: 2017-10-25 23:20:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/275964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enk/pseuds/Enk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shoreleave is 72 hours. It's halfway to hour 36 and Hikaru still hasn't heard from Jim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Space, She Calls Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yakbite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yakbite/gifts).



Hour 35, Hikaru notes; it’s been two hours since he’s last seen Jim. The orders were clear: 25th anniversary of the Enterprise’s maiden voyage or not, shoreleave is 72 hours. First 12 hours: quarantine; hours 12 to 27: debriefing; and at hour 30, the Alpha crew found themselves trapped in a room in Starfleet Headquarters with enough brass to even render Jim Kirk pacing, nervous. At hour 32, he initiated Operation Out, a well-practiced escape plan to sneak his entire crew out of boring Starfleet posturing. The order is always the same: Jim sends Pavel on an errand and Pavel never returns. Then, Leonard leaves, citing a medical emergency. Montgomery pretend to drink too much and Nyota offers to accompany him to his quarters. Hikaru simply slips out and finally Spock excuses himself close to the end citing early morning meetings.

Hikaru got out at hour 33 but he hasn’t seen any of the crew since. He’s sure Pavel and Montgomery have dragged Leonard off to a bar. He hasn’t seen Spock leave yet, no message from Jim and he’s getting a little anxious. Half way to hour 36, he makes his way back to the boardroom he’d been trapped in earlier. All he finds are a few Starfleet cadets cleaning up after the brass and the exploring heroes they want to be. That’s a little surprising.

“Hey, you,” the tall and scrawny one flinches when he turns around. Hikaru can practically see the kid’s thought process when he looks at him: surprise, fear, awe and stupefication. Happens every time they make their way back to Headquarters and the Academy. “Yeah, yeah, listen, where’d everyone go?” Tall and Scrawny shakes his head, looking at his toes.  
“Left about an hour ago.” The short blue one sounds like a girl but Hikaru never assumes anything anymore. “You can find the Brass at Elgin's Fine Ales, the rest are probably at the Green Squid.”

“Thanks, Cadet.” He nods and finds himself a wall panel. Screw this, he’s going to cheat. Takes him only five minutes to lock in on Jim’s bio signature. He checks the numbers against the blue plans of the building. Jim’s on the rooftop, the rooftop gardens to be precise. Should have known that Jim would go to the place that brings him as close to the stars as possible. He finds Jim sitting on the ledge of the roof on the highest of the buildings. The cold fear that shoots up his spine twists his insides until his gut and lungs feel like stones inside him. His brain works at warp nine conjuring all sorts of scenarios that all end with Jim going over that ledge ending as a twisted pile of blood and splintered bones on the concre- Hikaru forces that thought back into the deepest vaults of his brain.

Jim’s still in his dress uniform, hands folded in his lap looking out onto the stars. No, not looking, he is watching them with the kind of calm intent that only Jim Kirk could muster. Hikaru knows Jim, knows he wouldn’t just jump off a ledge. There’s too much life inside him, more than Hikaru’s ever seen, but Jim has a history with ledges and cliffs and it’s not a good one.  
“Took you long enough.” Jim doesn’t turn his head, just knows Hikaru’s there like he’s smelling him, “Thought I’d have to leave a trail of breadcrumbs."

“Didn’t know I was on a scavenger hunt for you.” Hikaru sits down beside Jim both their legs dangling over the edge. There’s an opened bottle of bourbon. Leonard really rubbed off on the man throughout their career. Hikaru makes a face, if there was booze, he’d hoped it to be something a little more palatable. Still, he takes the bottle, has a swig, makes a face and hands it to Jim. “So what are we drowning?”

“Fuckers finally got me.” He shoves a box at Hikaru. “Fuckin’ Pike.” Slight slur, he’s probably six or seven shots ahead of Hikaru who places the bottle strategically out of Jim’s reach. Jim can hold his own, but there’s a ledge.  
“Got you?” He looks at the box but doesn’t open it just yet, wants Jim to tell him first.

“Remember the first time we went out there?” Jim’s looking at the stars, wistful. Hikaru remembers the clusterfuck disaster that was their first voyage. Twenty-five years and he remembers all too well maneuvering what would be his lady through the wreckage that used to be his graduating class. He takes another drink, but he knows nothing is ever going to drown that day.  
“Yeah,” he finally says, but there’s nothing else to say. Nothing they don’t already know. Trauma like that creates bonds that can’t be broken. All of them know it. None of them will say it. A stupid mistake Hikaru made saved their lives, made sure instead of no graduating class, there were seventeen of them. Seventeen out of a hundred and forty-seven. Suddenly, it feels like yesterday and Hikaru takes another drink.

“Thought Bones was right for a while. Disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence and death.” He reaches out his hand as though trying to touch the stars. “But we found so much more. Seen things no one else has ever seen before, done things most people never will. And as much as it’s death and danger, space is filled with life and beauty and unfathomable things. And we haven’t even seen a fraction of it. Haven’t seen enough-“ Jim beaks off and falls silent.

“What’s in the box, Jim?” Hikaru’s got an idea and it worries him.

“Big old ball and chain.” Jim reaches for the bottle and frowns when it’s not where he’s left it. Hikaru raises an eyebrow but Jim’s not looking at him, still enamored with the stars above. He’s surprised when Jim finally turns to his side and looks at him, pupils blown. “It’s over.”

“What?” Hikaru opens the box and there, nestled on maroon velvet, there’s brass. Serious brass. Jim’s right, they did finally get him. They’d been trying to pin that Rear Admiral insignia on Jim for almost a decade now, but he’d refused, self-sabotaged and weaseled his way out of Admiralty. And now, they’d finally cornered him, pinned him down during the one ceremony they knew he wouldn’t blow off. Hikaru feels for him. The Enterprise has been a ship of Captains for years now, but it’s never been about rank, always about trust.

“Shit.” It’s all Hikaru can say. Jim’s exhale is shaky. Hikaru figures he’s terrified of being separated from the Enterprise, his crew, his lifeline, everything that makes him feel alive. He follows Jim’s gaze back up to the stars, squints a little as though he’d be able to see the space port with his bare eyes. He shimmies a little until their thighs touch. Twenty-five years and as well as he knows Jim, Hikaru feels like he’s flying blind this time. He feels the medal cold under his touch, cold like it’s trying to freeze their hearts and drive them apart. So cold, it’s unsettling. He looks at it, the cool moonlight reflecting off the brass and Hikaru thinks he can hear the light cut the space between them. Jim never listened to the Siren’s song of Admiralty, could only hear the lure of space. It’s not right to force this on anyone, not right to just take everything away because that’s the way things are supposed to be. There’s anger welling in Hikaru’s throat but before it escapes, Jim’s hand grips his thigh.

“I don’t want this.”

“I know.” Hikaru doesn’t know what else to say. Realizes he’s taken for granted how easily he can read Jim, how easily he can figure him out and bring him back from what’s not right. Usually. Now he looks at Jim and can’t see anything beyond the neutral mask he’s put on.

“I suppose they’ll give the Enterprise to Spock.” Jim takes a breath like he’s bracing himself.

“Don’t say that.” It’s too cruel to think of the Enterprise with a bridge devoid of Jim, his smile and all his eccentricities.

“You could get your own command, Sulu. Finally use that Captain rank of yours.” Jim tries to smile, but what anger still remained in Hikaru’s throat crept its way into his mouth like bile.

“Fuck that.” What Hikaru wants to say is ‘fuck you’ for Jim using his last name to push him away, to try and coerce him into being an accomplice to the Siren’s song. “You know I’d hunt him down every time he brought her home scratched.”  
Jim laughs, genuine and Hikaru can see a bit of that mask fall away. So, he continues. “And is the world really ready for Captain Chekov, Pavel Andreievitch?” He pauses for a moment. “I’d resign.” It’s not as strong coming from his lips as he wants it, so he takes a deep breath and tries again. “I will resign.”

“What?” Jim looks at Hikaru like he’s speaking in tongues.

“They put you behind a desk, I’ll resign. “ He means it. He’s worked with the same crew for a quarter of a century. The possibility of having to relearn a new crew makes him feel ill. “Don’t think there’s anyone on that bridge who’d stay if you were gone.”

“Hikaru, you can’t, your career.”

“Oh fuck that!” He sounds like Scotty in ways he never thought he would. “Fuck Starfleet. We’re _your_ crew until the day we die, Jim, your crew.” Hikaru hasn’t noticed he grabbed Jim’s hand. “We’d resign and wait for you to join us. On a frigate, a freighter, who the fuck cares? It’s space and you belong out there. With us,” and before Hikaru can stop himself, “With me.”

Before Hikaru can say anything else, there is Jim Kirk against him, mouth and hands and life, fuck, so much life. The kiss surprises him, so much Jim all at once with all the life he has to give and Hikaru loses his balance, drops the box in a desperate attempt to steady himself but Jim’s already pulling at him, twisting them both so Hikaru ends up half on top of him. He wants to suggest the grass but when Jim peels himself out of his dress uniform shirt and leans back until he’s lying on the ledge propped up on his elbows, one leg dangling just above the grass, the other in the open air, his mask falls away completely. He looks at Hikaru, chest rising and falling fast. He’s flushed and Hikaru doesn’t need to glance down to know he’s hard. Some things never change.

So he leans, straddling the ledge to kiss Jim hard, grinds him into the rough surface until he keens for more. Much better, he thinks and drags his tongue over Jim’s pulse and when Jim keens he bites it for good measure. Hips buck up against him, impatient, Hikaru raises an eyebrow and just like that Jim stops. Still panting and keening, but his hips stay firmly on the ledge.

“Good,” is all Hikaru says and runs his fingers over the hard swell in Jim’s dress uniform pants. Jim’s breath hitches just before he moans and lets his head fall back. Hikaru wants to tear off those pants, that last remnant of Starfleet that clings to Jim and take him hard. But the way Jim moans and tries not to buck his hips, he’s not going to last long, might not even last long enough for Hikaru to open the pants. “Breathe.” He puts his hand flat on Jim’s chest and Jim takes a deep breath which he rewards with a slow and languid kiss, almost loses himself in the taste. When he’s satisfied Jim won’t come inside his pants, he opens them carefully, frees Jim and runs his hand over Jim’s thigh before letting his fingers ghost over Jim’s dick. He’s hard too, but the noise Jim makes when he takes him in hand shoots hot through his spine and he grinds against Jim’s thigh with a moan.

It’s easy to undo Jim now and there’s no command that could keep him from rocking himself into Hikaru’s hand or keep him from pushing himself to sit up and kiss Hikaru hard and deep, fingers digging into his shoulders. He returns the kiss in kind, his free hand digging into Jim’s thigh, leaving bruises they’ll both get hard over for the next few days. Jim pulls away, searches Hikaru’s face with those ridiculous laser beam blue eyes, looks at him with all this life pouring from every pore of his body and then, Jim lets go, let’s himself fall backwards as he comes, simply trusting Hikaru has his center of gravity pinned down. Hikaru strokes him through it, his knee firmly wedging Jim’s thigh to the ledge. And Jim looks up at him, pupils blown, still shuddering with aftershocks, panting and grinning broad.

“Still pretty flexible for your age.” Hikaru smirks and offers Jim a hand and pulls him up, hard enough they both topple backwards onto the grass ignoring Jim murmuring ‘asshole’ against his neck, kissing his jaw. “Mhm.” He approves of Jim’s body half draped over him, a hand on his waistband. Jim’s breath evens as he kisses a trail to Hikaru’s clavicle and puts his head against his chest to listen to Hikaru’s heartbeat. Jim breathes deeply, slowly, and Hikaru only knows Jim’s fast asleep when he hears him softly snore against his chest.

“Oh come on, really?” Hikaru groans. He’s so hard it almost hurts and Jim is sprawled all over him, fast asleep. He takes a deep breath. Not Jim’s fault. It’s been a hell kind of day, but before he’ll let Jim sleep, Hikaru tries another change of tactics. “Come on, Jim, stay with me.” He nudges Jim, kisses his shoulder and neck but the snoring only increases in volume and Hikaru wills himself to admit defeat. He sighs and wraps his arms around Jim’s shoulders. “Lucky you’re pretty.”Hikaru shakes his head with a smile and sinks back onto the grass.

***

“Don’t say it!” Jim’s warns, threatening Hikaru with a fork-ful of scrambled eggs.

  
“I wasn’t going to say anything.” Hikaru hopes his smirk is only half as big as it feels.

  
“I couldn’t have known.” Jim chews on a piece of bacon.

  
“No one said a word.” Hikaru is shaking his head yes trying not to laugh.

  
“They should have told me Rear Admiral meant they were making other ships report to us.” He pulls a face before finishing the last of the breakfast take-out they’d grabbed on their way back from Headquarters. He swivels a little in his chair like it’s not hugging his ass quite like it should. They were the first ones back on the bridge. Returned halfway through hour 70. After Pike had pulled a miserable looking Jim into his office and explained Jim’s new duties, overlooking the torn shirt and stained pants; after they’d spent hours 49 through 67 in Admiral’s quarters only leaving the bed to meet the needs of basic bodily functions.

  
Jim sits silent for a moment, wiping his hands on his Starfleet issue pants. “Would you really give all this up?”

  
“Yes.” Hikaru doesn’t miss a beat. “Though we probably could have found a way to hijack her.”

 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                            _fin._


End file.
